Painted Purple
by Mychele O'Carrik of Clonmel
Summary: take a look into the everyday life of the RA chars! ALL OF THEM!Funny, sad, angsty, romantic, it's all here! Bunch of themed drabbles and oneshots; five propmts per chap. My challange entry for spookisapuppy's 100 themes chal.Sorta my creative vent,plz R&R!Luv ya!
1. Chapter 1

100 themes challenge.

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**A/N hey! This is my entry for spookisapuppy's 100 themes challange. I called it painted purple cuz**

**1. I like purple:D**

**2. It's a play off of The Lost Stories: Purple Prose**

**3. I like hugs!**

**So, #3 doesn't make sense, but who cares? No one? Thought so. Anywho, I hope it's not as horrible as Will's speech in the Lost Stories.:D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's apprentice. John Flanagan does. But, i do own some yummy coffee. *thumbs up* Disclaimer for entire story.**

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1. Introduction

Near the border of Clonmel is where I first saw him; seeing him _at all_ comes as a surprise to me now, when I think back on that day. But I didn't know what a feat it was then. I'd been riding nonstop for twelve hours, on next to no sleep. I was exhausted, to say the least. Reigning in my horse, I searched about for a good campsite. Any camp site, really. Within an inch of falling off my mount, I slid wearily to the ground. A shadow flitted by on the outskirts of my vision, the only reason I bothered to look and see what it was is because I knew that I may be being pursued. I hoped that my absence would go unnoticed until sometime after daybreak, but I had to be prepared. I caught sight of a blur, a whirl…then nothing. Outwardly, I pretended to be loosening the girth of my horse's saddle, but inwardly, I was searching fiercely with my eyes. A slight movement caught my eye, and my gaze darted after it. There, now I was certain that someone, or _something_, was hiding in the shadows. I drew my claymore, and stepped out boldly, suppressing the panic that threatened to overcome me.

"Who's theer? Show yerself, if ye value yer life. Ahm not afeerd of ye Ferris!"

I declaimed loudly. Suddenly, the very matter of the bushes seemed to shift (or so it appeared to me at the time), and a man emerged from them. He wore a brown and green cloak, dyed strangely, and with a deep, deep cowl; a quiver showed over his shoulder, and a massive longbow was held loosely in one rough hand. Before I could speak, he held up one hand in a gesture of peace, and spoke in a foreign accent:

"I won't harm you, young man. My name is Pritchard."

**A/N I hope I portrayed Halt's POV accurately; I tried to give him an accent when he talked, but I'm not sure if it's right. Lemme know what ya think! Oh, and I know, Halt doesn't use a claymore, and the Ranger cloaks are **_**grey**_** and green, not **_**brown**_** and green. But, Halt probably trained with some sort of sword when he was in Clonmel, as was considered fitting for a prince. And the cloak patterns probably vary over time, and this was before Crowly took over, so yeah. It might've changed. *shrugs***

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2. Love

He loved the way her hair swished when she ran; it was starting to grow out. He loved the way her eyes changed when she was happy or sad, angry or elated, content or restless; she was delighted now. He loved the special sparkle in her wonderful eyes when she was being mischievous; right now, they gleamed like stars. He loved how she teased him, and pretended to get mad; it made her so enchanting. He loved the way she spoke to him; they were fast friends. He loved her supple mouth; she always _had_ something to say- like now:

"Why are you looking so very serious Horace? Am I dull company?"

Her gorgeous hair swished with a playful toss, her luminous eyes twinkled and shone, her supple mouth quirked, her brows arched in mock anger, but her voice was teasing and friendly. He loved it.

"Not in the least; in fact, you're lovely Cassie."

**A/N Baww, so sweet! X3 Kk, too much sugar. The next one better be un-sugary.*pouts***

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3. Light

Walking slowly, ever so softly, Will used every ounce of his considerable skill to step lightly among the crowded trees and underbrush. Peeping around a giant oak, he looked swiftly about, to ensure that no one was in sight; there wasn't. In the blink of an eye, he swarmed up the tree, and balanced on a high branch. There, he settled to watch, and wait. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rely on the old Ranger adage that "people seldom look up", because his target was no ordinary person.

That's why when he heard a twig snap nearby (not that it was terribly loud or obvious, but it was more than enough signal to Will), he knew it was a bluff. So, he stayed still; resisting the urge to seek the source of the sound. **(A/N waaaay too many s-words here…) **soon, **(*rolls eyes* another one…) **he _felt_, rather that actually heard, his target enter attack range. Now, he had to decide _how_ to attack. Eventually, meaning two seconds, Will came to a decision; quietly steeling his muscles for the spring, he watched the target come closer; or, rather, he watched the _signs_ of his target coming closer. His target was, if anything, even more skilled at unseen movement than Will, which meant that _seeing_ him was more like seeing that blade of grass spring back up, or that shadow pass by. Anyway, his target came closer by the second, until Will was able to calculate where he was, and then…He sprang!

"Ahhh! What in the…!"

Gilan stood up, still holding the boy underneath the arms.

"Tsk, tsk Will. Will you ever learn? I, Gilan the amazing, am the un-beatable, un-seeable, un-dubitable-"

"That's not a word."

Gil waved his hand dismissively.

"…Un-catchable master of un-seen movement."

"Yeah, yeah, all hail Gilan Davidson. Hooray. Now can ya put me down?" Grumbled the irate apprentice.

"Oh, alright. You're not getting any lighter anyway."

**A/N btw, this is when Will is a first year apprentice. Remember how he asked Gil to teach him unseen movement? Well, that was it. **

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4. Dark

Morgorath, Baron of Gorlan fief.

Morgorath, friend of the King.

Morgorath, closest advisor of the King.

Morgorath, usurper and meddler.

Morgorath, enemy of Rangers.

Morgorath, traitor of the kingdom.

Morgorath, banished from Araulen.

Morgorath, lord of the land of rain and night.

Morgorath, fallen into darkness-

Dead.

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5. Seeking Solace.

I am Alyssa. My Husband is- was- was in the war. He left for the battle at Hackham Heath one week ago. News came today: he is dead. Dead and gone. They speak of that Ranger, the one assigned to our fief, Redmond. His name is Halt, they say; I don't know for myself. I wonder what he is like; a hero like him. My husband is a hero, now. But who will tell me of his deeds? No-one, is suppose. He is dead, and left me seeking solace, where none can be found. I have only-wait, I still have _her. _Our infant daughter. She is healthy and smiling. She does not know that there is no reason for joy. Or is it _I_ who know not that there _is_ reason? Yes, yes there is. There is life; life in our daughter. Where there is life, therein lies hope, they say. I believe it. She's smiling at me again; Alyss, he called her Alyss; after me, he said. He said she would be as beautiful as I am. He is wrong. She will greatly surpass my beauty. Pink cheeks, round and soft; wispy hair, like a golden halo. Serious grey eyes. Serious? That is strange. They are comforting. Grey; that too, is strange about her eyes. They are perfect. In them, I am finding solace.

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**A/N there's the first chap! I'll be doing this in five entry chaps. Enjoy!**


	2. In Which Crowley is Clever

Chap 2

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6. Break away

Did big-important-grown-ups play with stuffed animals? Crowley didn't think so. He'd just turned eight yesterday, and now considered himself a man. And men definitely did not play with brown stuffed puppies, he decided. With that, Crowley tossed said creature into a wooden chest, trying to look like he didn't care, and shut it. Before he could get three paces however, he stopped to reconsider. Growley might get lonely in there.

When four year old Crowley had gotten it for his birthday, he'd thought it would be _extremely_ cleaver to name the dog Growley, because it sounds like Crowley, you see.

"Growley? Are ya lonely in there?"

_It's awfully dark in here. Can I come out?_

"No, big men don't play with stuffed dogs."

_I thought I was man's best friend?_

Gasp! He hadn't thought of that!

"That's right Growley! After all, _manly men_ need loyal hunting dogs, right?"

_Woof!_

Crowley thought he could hear the joyful wag of his friend's tail thumping the wooden walls of his prison.

"Don't worry! I'll get you out!"

He lifted the lid to see Growley's grinning face.

_Woof! Let's go hunt a hippy-pot-a-thing!_

"YEAH! C'mon Growls!"

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Forty-two year old Commandant Crowley looked around his tent at the annual gathering. No one in sight.

He opened the drawer of his portable desk, and peeked in:

"Are you lonely in there Growley?"

_Woof! Grrrr-oof! Just a bit. Can you leave the drawer open a bit? It's awfully dark in here._

"Sure thing Growls."

"Who're you talking to Crowly?"

Jumping in his seat, Crowley shut the drawer loudly, ignoring the indignant _Woof _from within.

"Me? Talking to someone? Why would I be talking to anyone? There's no-one here!" Crowley said nervously.

Halt's face was as expressionless as always; but Crowley was certain that Halt looked a bit smug.

"Why indeed Crowley?" With that, he strode silently off.

Crowley opened the drawer a bit.

_Grrrr! What was that for?_

"Sorry, Halt startled me."

Halt, who was in fact watching from a concealed hole in the tent, shook his head and walked off, a hint of a smile around his mouth.

For Halt, that was ROFLing.

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7. Heaven

Tall, rich, and stately.

A cake.

That is how kitchen trainee Chubb viewed his masterpiece. After many test batches, a few mistakes, and ABSOLUTLY _NO HELP_ WHATSOEVER, there it was: A beautiful spotless cake, made of whipped egg whites, five rich layers, and whipped-cream frosting; topped with special sugary decorative flowers, beads, and leaves of his own invention, and delicately arranged on an expensive platter, which was heaped with real, and sugar, roses. He had created this confection for Baron Arald and Lady Sandra's wedding anniversary.

And that, for Chubb, was heaven.

**A/N Shoutout to JustaBunchaHOOPLA and Luvergirl of Books for telling me Lady Sandra's name! I had "Lady So-andSo" b4. :P Fanks!**

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8. Innocence

It was the day after Horace, Will, Halt, and Evan- er, Cassandra had returned to Araluen, and the new knight was taking a walk with Alyss. They had a lot to catch up on.

"Alyss? I saw some strange girls in Gallica, outside of a tavern I think. They had _really_ short skirts on."

If she wasn't a trained courier, Alyss might've been fidgeting.

_Where is he going with this?_

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Halt said that they were couriers, and that they wore those skirts because they might need to run fast to deliver important messages. I'm not sure I believe him though. I thought, since you're a courier, you might know about things like that."

"Ah, I see. Well, I don't know much about diplomatic customs in Gallica."

By now, she was suppressing laughter. That Halt!

_Then again, Halt was probably just trying to protect him. Poor innocent boy! I suppose he'll have to know the truth eventually though, for his own sake._

"But, I'm pretty sure they weren't couriers."

"Then why?..."

So she explained it to him in the mildest of terms, leaving out all the seamy details, just barely leading him up to it until he figured it out.

"Oh…"

His cheeks were flaming red.

Alyss smiled gently.

"Don't be too mad at Halt; he was just trying to keep you innocent."

**A/N I got the idea for this from a pic I saw on deviantart; it was titled "Daily life of Gilan." It had various scenes of Gilan being, well, Gilan. One panel titled "protecting the innocent" showed Horace asking-**

"**Is that really why their skirts are so short?"**

**-and an uncomfortable Gilan saying "sure." But he had to find out somehow, cuz he refers to it in book eight, saying how he can't believe he fell for it or sumthin'.**

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9. Drive

"No. You most certainly may not."

Tug stamped his hoof and shook his mane.

"I don't understand you the same way Will does, but I'm guessing that you're still adamant?"

Tug nodded up and down exaggeratedly.

"I don't care. Will's not here right now; what I say goes. One apple, or no apple."

Whickering, Tug gestured to Abelard who was grazing placidly nearby.

_Come here Abley._

_My name, Tug, is Abelard. And I take Halt's side. One apple is enough; at least for you young whipper-snappers. We senior horses need our strength._

Halt looked smugly and the pony.

"You won't be getting any help from Abelard; he's loyal to me."

Throwing his mane defiantly, Tug looked away. Halt tossed an apple to his horse…who, instead of catching it, bumped it with his nose…in Tug's direction.

Catching it neatly, Tug crunched happily. Aghast, Halt looked from one to the other.

"Was that a practiced maneuver?"

Abelard looked innocently back at him, while Tug was wearing a decidedly horsey smile. If a horse _can_ smile.

"Why do you need apples so badly?"

_He's a driven young pony._

Halt glared at his faithful horse.

"Traitor."

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10. Breath again

With an agonized cry that tore at Will's heart, Alyss crumpled to the ground. His absolute need to be at her side transcended everything else; there was no meaning, no reality but that Will must go to her.

"Alyss, Alyss." He said her name over and over again.

Dropping to his knees, he gathered her limp form in his arms, and held her fiercely; her head lolled back, her graceful arms hung loosely, her hair streamed out across the cold, stone floor, mingling with his tears. Violent sobs wracked his body. Mindless, heedless of everything but her, Will brought her head to his chest and simply held her.

"I-I thought I-I'd lost y-you A-Alyss." He whispered.

Thousands of thought began to race through his mind:

_What if Keren permanently damaged her brain? Will she know me? Will she be the same? Will she ever recover? Oh! This is my fault! I should've come sooner; I shouldn't have left her alone; this is my fault, my fault!_

A new flood of tears washed over him. Suddenly, the door flew open. _Bang!_

"Will! Will, are you alright? Is she alive? Where's…"

Horace trailed off when Will took no notice of him.

"I-I…"

"Will, what? What do you need?" Horace rushed over to his friend's side.

"I-I just w-want her t-to b-b-breath uh-again."

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**A/N There's chap 2! Which was your favorite? Tell me in a review! Please? **

**Oh-pretty-please-witha-cherry-on-top-an'-whipcream-y? Kfanksbai.**


	3. Memories, Morgorath, and a Hippy?

Chap 3

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11. Memory

These are the kinds of days I'll remember for the rest of my life:

Horace, Crown Prince of Araluen, Knight of the Oakleaf; that is my friend. Imagine, having Horace Altman as your best friend. Then again, he could say the same about me, I suppose. "My best friend, Ranger Will Treaty of Redmont."

I don't like fame, I almost envy people who have their anonymity intact. Almost. If I wasn't Will Treaty, former apprentice to Halt O'Carrik (most people don't even know his full name!), then I wouldn't have married the most amazing woman in the world: Lady Alyss Mainwaring. If I wasn't Will Treaty, sitting here under a tree with Horace Altman, in a moment of rare leisure, watching the moon rise, then I wouldn't have the memories:

When I climbed the tower wall to read the mysterious paper, and was apprenticed to Halt.

When I first rode Tug, the original Tug, and was thrown off.

When I saved Horace from the boar, and he saved me.

When I was attacked by Alda, Bryn, and Jerome; and being saved by Horace and Halt.

When I received my first mission, and killed the last Kalkara (I still shudder to think of the beast).

When I burnt the bridge, and Evanlyn ( I can't think of her by any other name) ran out to relight the fire while I fought off the wargals and Skandians (unsuccessfully in the latter case).

When we were captured, sold as slaves, and eventually, me becoming addicted to Warmweed.

When Halt and Horace recued us, and we fought the Temujai.

When we went to Arrida, and I nearly lost Tug, won the race, and saved my companions.

When I graduated and received my fief, the mission to the north, meeting Malcolm, all that happened in Macindaw. Those memories are best forgotten though; except for confessing to Alyss: that was truly memorable.

When we found out Halt's true identity, and we saved Clonmel, and defeated Tennyson's cult.

When we tracked down Tennyson, chasing him over the globe.

When Halt nearly died. The most tearful memory.

When we traveled to the mysterious land of Nihon-Ja, and all Horace did there; he became their hero.

When I proposed to Alyss. I was incredibly happy.

When each of my closest friends married the perfect person. Halt and Pauline, Horace and Evanlyn, Alyss and myself.

So, so many more memories. Every day we made them, lived them.

Yes, there are countless memories; some happy, some sad. Some frightening, blurred, scarred; others joyful, timeless, beautiful.

If I wasn't Will Treaty, I wouldn't have the memories. And those are worth any unwelcome fame.

"Will? Are you alright? You're not usually this quiet."

I turned to my friend.

"Just thinking about the memories."

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12. Insanity

Morgorath, Lord of the land of rain and night, brooded in his gloomy castle of stone. It paled to the beauty of his former castle, Gorlan; this was just dark, dank, gloomy: ugly.

Like Morgorath.

Anyway, he's insane. Yup. Absolutely bonkers.

You see, he thinks he's entitled to the crown of Araluen. He also thinks that he can control creatures called wargals with his twisted mind. He talks to voices in his head, and he thinks that Kalkara are real. _Pffft, _yeah right. Everyone knows Kalkara don't exist. Just ask any Ranger! He also wanted to build a bridge across three-step-pass. As if. He tried to kill Halt. Ha. Don't make me laugh.

Yup. That's insanity for ya.

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13. Misfortune

Always getting into mischief. That's my Cassie. You'd think that the six-year-old Crown Princess would know better than to play finger paints on the walls of my imperial throne room; and on the day I was expecting emissaries from Celtica too. Well, that's exactly what she did.

Sometimes, I think it was misfortune that gave her to us -My wife and I- she died in childbirth. But I rebuke myself immediately when I come back to our private sitting room, after a long day, and she runs to me with open arms, her waist length hair streaming out behind her, and she pushes me into my big comfy chair, brings me my tea, only spilling it on her dress twice, and nearly scorches my slippers trying to warm them by the fire. Then she climbs up on the arm of my chair, and smooths the hair back from my face, petting and pampering her king. Her Dada.

That's how I know she's not a misfortune, but a gift.

**A/N That one kinda went opposite, didn't it? Well, the chal. doesn't say _how_ you have to write about the promt word! *cackles***

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14. Smile

"C'mon Halt, smile! Just a little?"

"No."

Will was trying to get Halt to smile, because he'd hired the Craftmaster of Art from the castle to draw Halt and Pauline outside the Ranger's cabin, as a wedding gift.

"Look, Tug's smiling."

"No he's not."

"You smiled when I decided to stay a Ranger."

"So I did."

"Just a tiny one? An itsy-bitsy one?"

"No."

"Halt dear, smile. Master Geoff***** wants to draw us as a happy couple; not gloomy morgue workers."

"Yes, of course Pauline."

And Halt smiled; because thinking that he was married to Pauline always, secretly, made him want to smile.

Also because he didn't want to think what would happen if he didn't smile.

***Pronounced "Jeff"**

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15. Silence

Silence was absolutely necessary. If they failed to remain silent, then their prey would be alerted of their presence, and the hunter would become the hunted.

Crowley did his utmost best to be as quiet as he could. _He _understood how important that was if his companion did not.

"Shhh! You're making too much noise!" Shushed Crowley in an exaggerated stage whisper.

_I can't help it! Animals like myself aren't too good at this sorta thing._

"That makes no sense; we're tracking a dangerous animal, and you say animals are no good at it?"

_Be that way if you will. I don't care._

Suddenly, their prey was in sight. Crowley pulled out his massive two foot long spear, and aimed it at the heinous beast…

_Woof! There it is! Woof, woof, grrrr-oof!_

The creature looked up in surprise, seeing it's terrible pursuers; it ran up a tree, waving it's bushy tail, and chattering accusingly.

"Dang it Growley! You scared the hippy-pot-a-thing!"

The outraged boy howled at his brown, floppy-eared stuffed accomplice. The dog stared at him in horror.

_You said the "D" word Crowley!_

Growley woofed indignantly.

_I'm ashamed of you! Really, an eight year old grown man, swearing!_

"Uh, I didn't mean to Growley! Look, don't tell and I'll let you come on my next hippy-pot-a-thing hunt, okay?"

Growley wagged his tail in agreement.

_You can count on my silence!_

**A/N There it is! How many of you were confuzzled at the beginning of 15? *raises hand* Author doesn't count? Oh well. Review plz!**


	4. Gilan and Nyan Cat

Chap 4

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16. Questioning  
_When he was five years old, at the ward, it went something like this:_

" 'ibby?"

" 'ibby? 'ibby'ibby'ibby'ibby'ibby'ibby'ibby'ibby..."  
_"What?"_  
"Can I have a 'tweet cake?"  
"No."  
"Can I have a 'cone? A bloobrr'y one?"  
"No."  
"Can I have sum pie? Or sum tea wif sugars? Or jus' a lumpa sugar?"  
"Absolutely not. The last thing ye need is sugar Will."  
"...Da last fing? But it's still onna list, wight?"  
_In the first year of his apprenticeship, it went more like this:_

"Why Halt? Does it need to be held that way? Why? Isn't easier _this_ way?"  
Will demonstrated holding his throwing knife "this way" to an impassive Halt. He threw it, but jerking his hand back at the last minute caused him to miss. At least, he missed the _target_. He hit the ground just fine. The knife had cut Wills hand on the skin flap between forefinger and thumb; it was deep, as the knife was razor sharp, but not _too_ damaging in the long run.  
Halt shook his head at the hapless apprentice.  
"How annoying, that cut will slow your training."  
Will glared accusingly.  
"You should've _told_ me how to hold it! Why'd you go and let me hold it that way?"  
_And when he was at last a Ranger:_

"I wonder why the tracks keep changing. Why are they heavier thrice a day? What does that mean? Is it the same times each day? How can I tell if I'm getting closer or farther? If I can't determine that, how do I know what time of day the tracks are heavier? Why?"  
Tug snorted at him.  
_Too many questions, not enough answers_. _Did you consider that he gets heavier after he eats? Thrice a day?_  
Tug whinnied in satisfaction. That'd shut up his human.  
"...Why does he eat so much?"  
_Then, when he himself became a mentor:_

The blond boy never stopped talking! The endless questions! What'd Will been thinking when he got an apprentice?  
"Why do our cloaks look this way? Does it really make you invisible? When do I learn how to use it? Do _all_ the rangers use bow and arrows? Do any use swords? How..."  
**"Stop." **Will said firmly.  
"One question at a time, and only if it's pertinent to the lesson"  
"...What does pertinent mean?"  
Will sighed.  
" Now I know why Halt got annoyed at my questioning."

* * *

17. Blood

_Italics=book, script book 1 pg. 231_

_The screams were nonstop, piercing, reaching higher and higher into a scale of agony that that the mind could barely comprehend as the rush of flames grew fiercer and fiercer with each second. _

_And then the screaming stopped, and the Kalkara was dead._

Dumbstruck with shock, Will could only stand and stare at the pile of ashes that had been the most feared creature in the world, only moments ago. The screams still rang in his ears, striking terror into his soul.

Then he remembered.

"Halt!"

Running forward, he could barely hear his own voice as a whisper.

Dropping to his knees in front of Halt, he looked aghast at him; this was Halt the invincible, Halt the legend, crumpled lifelessly on the stone ruins.

Will gingerly rolled Halt onto his other side, wounded leg up. Blood poured from the reopened gash, and from several deep wounds on his upper shoulders, where the beast had struck him. Pale and drawn, Halt's face looked terrifyingly dead in the moonlight. Ghostly.

"Halt, Halt please don't be dead! I'll practice every day and won't pester you with questions, just don't be dead! I'll never talk to you again if you die."

Time seemed to slow as Will was stuck in a state of shock; he cradled Halt's head and shoulders in his arms.

Covering them both in his blood.

**A/N Oooh, that was dark…**

18. Rainbow

"Wha' is it Dada?"

"It's a rainbow Gilan"

"Wha's a rainbow Dada?"

Sir David paused; he could hardly tell Gilan the scientific definition of a rainbow. What then?...

"Well, you see Gilan-"

Coming to a decision, he just went with it.

"-It's a happy sign. It appears when the sky is happy."

Gilan's eyes widened.

"It does?"

"Yes. Or when a person is very happy."

"Oh. An' does a kitteh cat run on it Dada?"

What on earth?...

"Um, yes, yes it certainly does Gilan."

"And does kitteh cat sing a happy song Dada?"

"Of course it does."

"But rainbows only come when people are happy Dada?"

"I told you so already."

"So, da rainbow wiwl go 'way if Mista Halt comes?"

Goodness gracious! Where does he get these ideas?

Laughing, Battlemaster David had a sudden inspiration.

"No no. Halt is from Hibernia; so, he's a leprechaun, you see. Leprechauns live under rainbows."

"Dada? Does leprechauns have scary knives? Cuz mista Halt is right behind you. I don' think he's a ferry happy leprechaun."

Sir David stiffened.

"Curse you, rainbow."

19. Grey

_italics= (c) John Flanagan, referenced form Ranger's Apprentice wiki._

Strumming idly on his new mandola,_ not _mandolin, Will treaty was trying to come up with somthing to play. Absentmindedly, he strunk a few chords. quirking his ear, he realized that it sounded an awful lot like the tune for Old Joe Smoke. Huh. He quickly worked out the rest of the song, and began to sing it, elated at his newfound skill. But, half way through, he forgot the lyrics! So, he just ad-libbed whatever came into his head.

"Uh, um, do de do de dododo...

_Greybeard Halt is a friend of mine_

_He lives on Redmont's hill_

_Greybeard Halt never took a bath_

_And they say He never will!_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_Fare thee well, I say_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_I'll see you on your way_

_Greybeard Halt, he lost a bet_

_He lost his winter coat_

_When winter comes, Halt stays warm_

_By sleeping 'mongst the goats._

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_Fare thee well, I say_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_I'll see you on your way._

_Greybeard Halt, he lives with goats_

_That's what I've heard tell_

_He hasn't changed his socks for years_

_But the goats doesn't mind the smell!_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_Fare thee well, I say_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_I'll see you on your way_

_Greybeard Halt is a fighting man_

_I've heard common talk_

_That Greybeard Halt, he cuts his hair_

_With a carving knife and fork!_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_Fare thee well, I say_

_Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt_

_I'll see you on your way."_

He'd had to stop a few times to work out certain lyrics, but in the end he was laughing on the floor.

"I'm a genius! This is hilarious! Hahahahahahahaha!"

He gave a manic chortle. He sobered quickly when a thought occured to him:

"Halt'll kill me if he ever finds out."

20. Fortitude

Running, running, running, running. It seemed to Tug that the only thing he'd ever done was run and run and run...

He felt Will slump foward in the saddle, then suddenly start up at a strange sound in the night. Fear overcame his master, and gnawed at the faithfull pony's heart. Fear of the Kalkara.

_Must, continue; must, not , stop..._

Will seemed to forget that he had to change horses, or tug would eventually fail from exaustion. Every night sound, every rustle and squeek, was a Kalkara!

_He'll stop soon, I know it. But what if he doesn't? Well, then, I'll give him everything. I wont stop untill he says so._

And that he did.

**A/N Hey guys! sorry about any unintentional spelling errors, microsoft-idiot willn't work, and word pad doesn't have spell check. :P I'd like to give a shoutout to Luvergirl of Books! :3**

Luvergirl of books: I'm so glad you and your sister like it! Thats so sweet that you read the stories to your sis! :3Funny how it's supposed to be a boy oriented series, but almost all the fic writers and readers are girls! lol. Is she in elementary or middle school (assuming she's one of those)? Just wondering, i like to cater to my audience.:) Also, i wanna write one of the promts in the next chap for her. The next ones are *Vacation, Mother nature, Cat, No time, and Trouble lurking* Ask her which one she wants, and she can pick a char too. I'll do my best! :3

God bless, Mychele


	5. Cassie and Kitty

Cassie and Kitty

21. Vacation

At last! A long awaited holiday. Crowley had been beginning to think he'd never get away from that dratted paperwork.

_Stupid files, complaints, reports, messages; I'm done with ye all!_

Smiling in satisfaction, Crowley contemplated where he would go for a nice, relaxing vacation while sipping a fragrant cup of coffee. Ok, I lied. More like gulping and inhaling a scorching cup of coffee.

_Well, _*slurp slurp* _If this is going to be relaxing, *sluuurp* that rules out visiting Halt. That apprentice of his *slurp slurp, slurp* never _does_ shut up. Though he is a remarkable lad, I must admit._

He continued to muse in like manner all morning, until he entirely forgot what the whole purpose of his musings were in the first place!

A knock sounded on his office door.

"Go away! I'm on vacation!"

A muffled reply came.

"It's Horace sir. May I come in?"

Grumbling and growling, Crowley got up and walked to the door, which he'd locked to prevent unwanted visitors (messengers, hint, hint.).

"Well, what is it Horace? Come in, come in; and NO, you can't have my coffee!"

He dived for the coffee pot, clutching it protectively to his chest. Horace held his hands up in a peaceful gesture.

"Alright, I don't want your coffee sir! I just came on the matter of your vacation."

"Ah, yes. Well, I wanted to go somewhere quiet and peaceful, which means I'm not visiting Redmont, or Merick. Gilan and Will drive me crazy alone, but I can't handle Halt _and_ them.."

Shaking his head ruefully, Crowley inhaled more coffee. Horace grinned.

"I thought so. I figured you might be interested in going to seacliff. Very quiet there."

"Yes? Well, what does that have to do with you, Horace?"

"I'm going to survey the battleschool there; I'm doing a tour of the country, visiting the battleschools, and surveying the troops. It's a sort of experiential trip. I'm going to seacliff next, and King Duncan thought you might like to travel there with me."

Crowley raised his eyebrows.

"Hmmm, interesting idea. Well, you are better mannered than either Gilan, Will, or Halt. I'd quite enjoy your company, I imagine. Yes, yes, excellent idea. Thank Duncan for me when you see him next, will you? I've got some preparing to do!"

Crowley bustled about like a fussy housewife, getting ready to leave. This was an exceptional idea! He was surprised he hadn't thought of it himself, seeing as how he always had _brilliant_ (-ly dumb)ideas.

Horace inclined his head politely and exited the office, a strangely devious look (which Crowley entirely missed) on his usually honest face.

* * *

The trip was uneventful, enjoyable even. Crowley relished in a leisurely ride, feeling like the old days when he slinked about, loose and carefree of paperwork. When they arrived, and had made the crossing to the island fief, Crowley had been smiling nonstop, so much so that his face hurt. He and Horace chatted amiably, while Crowley continued to overlook the jolly and scheming look of the young Knight. It had been decided, when Crowley was making arrangements, that the Ranger of this fief would take a vacation of his own, and stay at Castle Araluen, while Crowley took over his post in the sleepy backwater. That was Ranger a holiday for you.

They came to the neat Ranger cabin in the woods, reasonably removed from the main town and Castle. It was late in the afternoon, so they would present themselves to the Baron the following day. They were, after all, the Ranger Commandant and the Princess' personal champion and bodyguard. Such people can do what they like, you know.

"Ah! This is going to be a memorable holiday Horace, I can feel it."

"It most certainly will." Said the Knight, stifling a chuckle.

Dismounting, Crowley lead Cropper to the other side, finding the stable there. At the young man's request, he also lead Horace's horse to the stable. Though, he did find it odd that Horace didn't personally see to his animal's comfort.

"I'm taking my pack inside Crowley" Crowley had insisted that Horace do away with "sir".

"I'll see to starting us some dinner."

"Alright Horace, I'll meet you inside."

Crowley carefully tended the horses, giving each a generous measure of oats, and an apple. Walking inside, he glanced around the place: it was standard build Ranger cabin, with one main room, two bedrooms (one for Ranger, one for apprentice), and a kitchen. Of course, the actual layout varied from cabin to cabin. Horace was bent over the stove, heating some stew; his pack had been carelessly slung on the floor, in decidedly un-Horace-like laziness.

"Crowley, d'you mind taking my pack into the spare room? It's the smaller one on the left of the hall."

Wondering how Horace knew as much without bothering to take his pack into the room himself, Crowley picked up Horace's pack, and set it neatly on the stool he found in the little room. He was about to take his own pack into the main bedroom, when Horace suddenly called.

"Crowley! Get in here quickly! It's urgent!"

Fearing he knew not what, Crowley dashed into the kitchen…to see Horace standing calmly facing him.

"I dropped my spoon."

Exasperated, Crowley addressed the young man sternly.

"Horace, what's gotten into you? Why are you so undisciplined? Not taking care of Kicker, throwing your pack on the floor, calling me because you dropped your DANG SPOON?"

A whisper issued from Crowley's pack.

_You said the dang word again Crowley! Woof! I'm going to tell the King!_

Crowley chose to ignore his insistent stuffed dog.

"I'm going to have to have a serious talk with the Knight commandant when we return if this behavior continues."

Astonished, Crowley noticed that Horace wasn't paying him the least attention; he was glancing behind the Ranger, barely concealing his mirth.

"Horace!"

"_YEEEEEEEERRRRRAAAGGGGG!"_

An almighty yell filled the cabin as Crowley was hit from behind as if someone threw a sack of flour at him. He was squashed flat on his face.

"Arrrg! Get offa meeee!"

He squirmed around…until he was faced with the grinning visages of Gilan and Will. Halt was standing a ways off, looking grim as usual.

"Whaaa?..."

Gilan, Horace, and Will chorused:

"HAPPY GOLDEN OAKLEAF CROWLEY!"

Bewildered, Crowley glanced from one face to the other.

"What are you all doing here?"

Halt answered.

"I think it's obvious Crowley; they're here to scare the living daylights out of you as an anniversary present. Or have you forgotten that today is the 50th anniversary of your silver Oakleaf?" The corners of Halts mouth twisted up in a smile.

Will and Gilan chatted excitedly.

"Yes! We wanted to surprise you!"

"It took a long time to be able to get us all free, but we did it!"

"And we're gonna have a party!"

Crowley shook his head in mock disapproval.

"And where are all of you going to sleep, eh? How very nice of you to half kill your commandant, Gilan, Will. And YOU!"

He said, glaring at Horace.

"What about my nice, relaxing vacation?"

Everyone broke into laughter; except Halt, of course. Halt never laughs.

But he did grin widely.

**A/N Wow! Rlly long…The rest of this is gonna be a looong chap…**

* * *

22. Mother Nature

Alyss loved the outdoors. Fresh breezes, greenery everywhere, the warm sun on her porcelain skin. It was lovely. Everything natural appealed to the young courier trainee. Today was her break, Saturday, and she liked to spend the morning simply walking. That's it. She had to run lots of errands in the week, and was constantly going from one part of castle or village to the other, but little time was spent simply enjoying her walk. Looking about leisurely, unhurried. Inevitably, she would be meeting up with Jenny later, perhaps George as well; while she loved her friends, especially the bubbly blond girl, Alyss needed some quiet time in the morning. So, here she was, walking over the bridge, and wandering east of the village.

_It's so quiet, except for the birds and other small creatures, there's not a sound to be heard…_

* * *

Will was doing some early morning practice in the woods: tracking what there was to be found, and silently slipping through the shadows. Even though it was a holiday, he liked to get some practice in during the morning. In a while, he would reach his eventual destination: a clearing in which he had set up a practice range for his shooting and knife throwing. I say a range, but it wasn't your typical target setup. The targets were concealed, up in trees, along the ground, under logs. And they were in the shape of stuffed squirrels, round burlap sacks, or a bundle of twigs. If you weren't a Ranger, or his apprentice, then you would never know it was there. He was nearing the area of the forest east of the crossing.

_It looks so surreal, the way the sunlight is coming through the trees, you could almost expect to meet a fairy in these woods._

* * *

It may be worth noting that Alyss wasn't wearing her usual courier's gown; it would get ruined walking in the woods like this, she reasoned. So, she had donned a plain light green dress that fell to her ankles, and had a brown sash that tied in front, the ends trailing down to the hem of her dress. The neck scooped wide across her shoulders, just below her collar bone. On top she had a warm short blue cape, because of the early spring chill. As she walked slowly, holding the edge of her dress in one hand, her golden hair streaming out behind her, with a few fanciful braids circling her head, an imaginative observer could very well have taken her for a fairy…

* * *

Will halted abruptly when he reached the clearing. It couldn't be…but it was! As sure as his name was Will, there before him stood a fairy. Tall and slender, clothed in an enchanting shade of green, with thin golden circlets on her head, was a beautiful fairy. Crouching in the shadows, Will waited to see if she would face his way. When she did, he almost gasped. Her eyes, her gorgeous grey eyes. Unconsciously, he stood up. So….pwettyyyyyyyy… The vision spoke!

"Will! I didn't see you there! How wonderful,"

She approached, a beaming smile on her face. But why was Will standing still like that? He looked kind of dazed.

"Will, are you alright?"

Somehow, Will still didn't recognize her.

"Are you a fairy?" He drawled, actually leaning forward, jaw slack. Alyss was sure there were little stars in his eyes. She laughed a little, somewhat apprehensively.

"No Will, it's me, Alyss."

Suddenly, Will snapped out of his daze as she said her name. He flushed scarlet.

"O-oh, ah, you see, um," he trailed off miserably, rubbing the back of his neck. Mentally, he kicked himself.

_You idiot! Now she probably thinks you're some stupid halfwit. Huh, I can't say I disagree._

"Um, I just think you look like, like a fairy." He winced, hearing the words come out of his mouth. Alyss looked at him, a quizzical smile playing about her lips.

_Great. That sure helped. You dolt, what are you thinking?_ He glanced back at her, once more taking in her appearance.

_Well, she does look very nice just now, I guess it's only natural._

**A/N Wow, NOT where I thought that would go. Ok, so I realize this scene is straight out of Lord of the Rings, when Aragon first meets Arwen. I didn't intend to copy it! Honestly! I only thought of it when I was looking for pix of Arwen for inspiration on Alyss' clothes.**

* * *

23. Cat

**This is for Luvergirl of books' lil' sis. **

Apprehensively, Horace watched the creature from a safe distance.

"Horace, don't be a baby. Come see my kitten!" called Princess Cassie. The young Knight shook his head. He newly knighted champion of the princess, fighter of Skandians, Wargals, evil lord Morgorath, and Temujai, would not, WOULD NOT, go near any _kitten._

"No thanks. I'm good right here."

Cassie huffed in exasperation. "It's just a little kitty cat. Cassie and kitten. Neither of us bite, you know." She smiled winningly. But Horace was adamant.

"I'm not sure about that. For either of you."

Cassie flared up. "Oh come on Horace. Is this the Knight in shining armor who fought the capital enemy of the kingdom, and defeated him single-handedly?"

"I don't like cats."

"Why ever not? Look at him. He's so cute, and soft, and furry. Look at his dear little whiskers, and his soft little paws." She cooed at the kitten, rubbing her nose against his as the little fellow purred and rubbed his cheeks on her. "Isn't he so sweet?" No response. "Horace?" She glanced around, to see him cowering behind the couch, holding out his sword defensively. "Horace! What are you doing? For pity's sake, it won't hurt you!"

"It was trying to eat your face! I saw it licking your cheeks. It's dangerous."

"Sure, more dangerous than a Wargal?"

"At least the Wargals didn't live in this very castle! That thing will hurt you!"

"Nonsense Horace. By the way, that reminds me. I'll call him William. See how his fur is all patchy? Brown and grey, and so little, little, little." She hummed into newly christened William's fur.

"William! That monster is nothing like Will!"

"Yes it is. His little claw are like Will's knives, his little paws as quiet as a Ranger, his little nose so inquisitive, his little tail makes him so nimble." She listed off his adorable dangerousnesses to an ever worrying Horace.

"K-knives? Yes, exactly, his dangerous knife-like claws."

"Look, just watch him play. You'll see how sweet he is." She set William down, and pulled a miniature yarn ball from her pocket, and threw it across the floor temptingly. The kitten shot after it, springing up in the air, claws wide, mouth open, and tongue sticking out roguishly. He mewed and gamboled, tossing the yarn in the air and catching it, twisting around until he was tangled thoroughly. Cassie laughed on the floor next to William, rolling the dear kitty around. Horace, however…

"Arrrg! It's going to kill something! Stop it Cass!" He stood up on the chair, frantically calling for her to subdue the heinous beast.

"That's it!" Cassie stood up formidably, and strode over to Horace. "I'm going to go take care of something. I'm leaving William with you," She said, holding up a finger to quell Horace's rising protest. "and you will take care of him. Do not leave him unattended, and be nice Horace. Hopefully you two will bond. Ta ta!" With a merry wave, she left the room, heedless of Horace's frantic pleas.

Left alone, Horace sat in a corner, one eye on William.

"You stay there, and I'll stay here. We're all good. Just, don't come over here."

William, however, had other ideas. He trotted over to Horace, rubbing his face against the boy's knees.

"Ahh! N-no, nice kitty, go away!" Bunching in horror, yet not daring to move much lest the creature attack him, Horace eyed the cat warily. It mildly blinked at him, purring curiously. He circled Horace's legs, eventually settling at his feet. Cozily curling up, William was soon sleeping. Horace watched him, gradually relaxing. He even ventured to stroke it lightly once, and seeing that the kitten didn't immediately kill him, he soon was petting it comfortably. After a bit more, he picked up William, settling him on his lap.

Cassie peeked into the room. She didn't see anyone.

_That's not good._

Stepping in, she looked to her left. There was Horace, smiling to himself, William snuggled on his lap. She grinned, silently giving a big _Awwwww!_ Quietly, she walked up to them, smiling triumphantly as Horace looked up at her.

"Guess you were right. I don't know why I didn't like cats before." he whispered. Suddenly, he felt an uncomfortable tickling sensation in his nose.

"Uh- ohhhhhAHHCHOO!"

Cassie laughed as kitty sat up, blinking at them.

"Maybe that's why." sniffed Horace.

**A/N there ya go! Hope you like it.:)**

* * *

24. No Time

She ran up to him with a pleading look.

"Can we have picnic? Pleeeeease?"

He stroked her hair apologetically. "I'm sorry Cassie, I'm very busy right now."

She marched, off disappointed. The next day, she ran to him with the same earnest look as before.

"Can we take a ride today? You haven't gone on a ride with me in a really long time you know," she scolded. He sighed.

"I have important business today Cassie, maybe tomorrow."

"That's what you always say," she sulked. Nonetheless, the next day she came up to him and smiled demurely.

"Daddy, I don't even want to go on a ride. But would you have some tea with me Sire?" Instead of responding to their little game of mock formality, he rushed off with a distracted little pat for her golden head.

"Not now Cassie, there's no time." Frustrated and hurt, she slumped onto the ground, right in the main hallway, and crossed her arms sulkily.

"No time: there's _never_ time! Not to ride, not to picnic, not to have tea with my own Daddy!" Cassie grumbled in spite of her nurse's attempt to pacify her.

"Princess, I will have tea with you, if you like. You can dress in your finest frock, and- "

"No! I don't want my finest frock! I don't want to have tea with you! I want Daddy!"

The next day, Cassie was determined to have time with her Daddy.

"Daddy, can you-" She didn't even have time to say her piece.

"Not now sweetie," he said with a harried look. "I'm terribly busy. Later."

That night, in the his office, King Duncan was interrupted from his paperwork by a determined little face poking in. Resolutely, she marched up, clambered into a gigantic chair, and stood in it, hand on the desk.

"You _NEVER_ have time!" Startled, Duncan looked up.

"Not now Cassie, Daddy is very-"

"Busy. I know. Always busy: too busy for a ride, too busy for a picnic, or tea. But you're_ really _too busy for _me!_ I know what you're up to Daddy," she shook a stern finger in his face. "Well, if you're too busy for your own little princess (and you ought to be grateful you have one!), then I'll go live with Grandma in Meric! So there!" Feeling she had made her point, Miss Determination plopped down and crossed her arms.

Despite his heroic effort, King Duncan could not suppress the grin from breaking out. With an un-kingly snort, he started to laugh. Oblivious to the scandalized expression on Cassie's face, he laughed and laughed, until tears ran down his face.

"Daddy! You are being absurd!"

With another huge effort, he subdued his hilarity. "I'm sorry dear, but you are too funny." Seeing her expression, he sobered. "I know I've not had time for you lately, I'm terribly sorry Princess," he said with a courtly flourish. Delighted, Cassie responded in kind.

"Well, I _am_ greatly vexed at your inattention, but I shall graciously overlook this transgression, so long as it is not repeated."

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid that a king is very busy, and cannot help it sometimes."

"That is no excuse Sire! Am I not your daughter? I think you would do very well to make a _little_ time for me, at least." Forgetting her majestic self, she leaned forward earnestly. "I don't want to be selfish Daddy, but I love you so much, and you are always too busy." Duncan's eyes softened.

"I know Cassie. I love you too. Tell you what, tomorrow I have important emissaries coming,"

Cassie frowned in disappointment.

"but I shall tell them I have even more important business than them and go on an excursion with you. We will have a picnic tea, and go riding, and do whatever you like all day. Furthermore, we shall do this once a week." Jumping up, Cassie clapped joyfully.

"Thank you Daddy! Thakyouthankyouthankyou!" She ran around the desk, and flung herself into her daddy's arms. Hugging her, Duncan thought reproachfully.

_No time indeed!_

* * *

25. Trouble Lurking

**A/N This one is a bit OOC, kinda crack:P(I hate that term btw, but idk how else to put it)**

**SLAM!**

Gilan pounded his fists on the desk formidably, facing the crowd.

"Too long have we endured his wrath unprovoked."

The crowd, Horace and Will, roared approval.

"Too long have his wrongs gone un-avenged!"

"AYE!"

"TOO LONG HAVE WE BEEN ASLEEP! I TELL YOU NOW, **AWAKE!**"

Will and Horace jumped up screaming blood and vinegar.

"My brothers," said Gilan, dangerously quiet. "It is time, that we annoy Halt!"

They worked themselves into a frenzy.

"What has he done to us?" asked Gilan rhetorically. "Dyed my hair red, he did! Salted my coffee!" the others gasped in horror. "Made me catch an angry goat single-handedly. What of you Will?"

"He made me sleep in a tree for playing a lullaby to Crowley!" Gil and Horace roared at the injustice. Horace put in his word:

"He told me that French couriers wear tiny skirts! He's a LIER!" Gilan calmed their outrage.

"Now, now, it's not as if we didn't deserve it- wait, no, no we didn't. Funny," he said, pretending to think seriously on the matter.

"LETS GET HIM!"

* * *

Halt had a sneaking suspicion that Gilan was up to something. But then, when was he not? But he had been acting strange, even for Gilan, at dinner; glaring at Halt as he sipped his coffee suspiciously, eyebrow raised higher than Halt would've thought possible. And the evil cackling coming from the back porch. Despite himself, Halt couldn't shake the feeling of trouble lurking. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw torches coming his way, and saw pitchforks being waved, blood, vinegar, and Halt's blood being screamed on the night air.

"THERE HE IS! GET 'IM!"

Screaming in terror, Halt fled for his life.

Crowley watched amusedly from the shadows.

_My plan has worked, I knew Gilan would get drastic. Just the right words, at the right time._

Halt yelled at him.

"This is your doing Crowley! I'll get you for this!"

The mobsters halted.

"Wait, this was Crowley's idea?" that was Will.

"Hmm, I guess so; he told me Halt was always laughing at us behind our backs because we never got him back," mused Gilan.

"Yeah, and Alyss _did_ tell me that Halt lied for my own good. Besides, aren't Crowley's ideas _always_ bad?" said Horace.

Crowley panicked.

"Wait! NO! It's not like you think! HE told you that!"

Gilan ignored him. "It's BOTH their faults! GET THEM BOTH!" Halt and Crowley looked askance.

"This is your fault Crowley! You and your stupid ideas!"

"It's not _my _fault you have an your apprentice takes me too seriously!"

About fifty tomatoes rained down on them from behind.

"Ah! Tomatoes!" screamed Crowley. They dived for cover in the bushes.

Halt shook his head ruefully as they heard Gilan instrucing the others to go prepare "plan b" while cakleling evilly.

"With Gilan, there's _always_ trouble lurking."

* * *

**A/N edit: I didn't like the ending, so I changed it. Srry for all you peeps who already read it. That was pretty funny, if I do say so meself. XD Srry this was so long in coming, I was working on other stories :P btw, the references Gil makes are frm my story, Gilan Goats and a Grey Hair. I think u know the others.;) Enjoy!**


	6. A Sappy Chap and Gilan's Gallic Hat

Chap 6

**A/N I'm warning you, this chapter's prompts give rise to very sappy drabbles. :P (except for 27)**

* * *

26. Tears

_**Bold/italic= book script, b2 pgs261,262**_

There weren't many times in his life that Halt had cried.  
*****

_**As the ship began to gather way, Will stared at the mounted figure in the surf, buffeted by waves. Halt was so near and yet now so impossibly out of reach.  
**_*****

When he bid Caitlin, his only sister, farewell. But only after she wasn't looking, and he was riding away swifter than the wind. The wind whipped his face as the tears were blown across his cheeks. She was the only one who knew he was leaving, the only one he'd said goodbye to.  
*****

_**Will's eyes stung with tears and, faintly, he heard Halt's voice.**_

"_**Will! Stay alive! Don't give up! I'll find you wherever they take you!"**_

*****  
When he was too late to save Will's mother; to fulfill his promise.  
*****

_**Choking on tears, the boy raised his hand in farewell to his friend and mentor.**_

*****  
But on each occasion, Halt had fought with might and main to hold them back, stifle his emotion. At least outwardly.  
*****

"_**Halt!" he croaked. But he knew the Ranger would never hear him. He heard the voice again, carrying over the sounds of wind and sea.**_

*****  
Not this time. He felt terror strike his soul as he yelled with all his strength.

"**I'll find you Will!"**

Forlornly he watched the wind bear his apprentice, his son, away into slavery. Into pain and hardship. Into adversity and hopelessness. Rage burned within him at his helplessness. Always he'd been able to fight somehow, to resist, to change. Not now. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to be done. No action to take, no arrows to shoot. The only arrow shot was lodged deep within his heart. It seared within him, salt tears mingling with the ocean water that separated him and Will **as his lips still moved in a promise only he could hear.**

"I'll find you Will. _I will_."

* * *

27. Foreign

"W- What _is_ it?"

Gilan grinned proudly,.

"It's a hat."

Will eyed him warily.

"Gilan, you're wearing a turtle shell with pigeon feathers stuck on it." Gilan nodded again. He was rather proud of his creation.

"Don't forget the socks on the sides."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Looks like dog ears." Gilan bristled indignantly.

"Do not! This, I'll have you know, is the latest fashion in Gallica." He sniffed haughtily. Some people didn't appreciate true art.

"Since when do you care what Gallicans wear? And I seriously doubt that they do wear such ridiculous things. Who told you that anyway?"

"It is not ridiculous! And since you're so against it, why would you care who told me? I have good information. Imma Ranger you know," he said this as if Will were a child.

Starting to get a sneaky suspicion, Will glared at him as if he were under-brewed coffee. "Gilan, is there something you're not telling me?" he said dangerously. Despite himself, Gilan quailed. Will was so much like Halt it was unnerving.

"N-no, why would I do that? Heh, heh…"

"Who was it?" Will shot the question like an arrow.

"No-one."

"Who?"

"No-one"

"_Who?"_

"_**NO-ONE!"**_ They screamed at eachother rapid fire. A squirrel threw an acorn at Gilan's head.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR EH? CURSE YOU SQUIRREL!"

Will smirked. "Squirrels take my side. I win."

"No you don't! They're only looking after their own," said Gilan smugly.

"Was that a reference on my mental health, or my size?" Will gritted.

Gilan shoved his face up close to Will's, sneering. "BOTH!" Will backed away with an injured air.

"You didn't!"

"I did."

"That hurt Gilan. Hurts me right here man," Will touched his chest in reproach.

"Hey, I didn't-"

"You cut me deep."

"Don't say tha-"

"I trusted you. I thought you were worthy of it."

"I am-"

"Suppose I was wrong for once in my life. Thanks for ruining my streak." He walked away, sniffing back tears.

"I didn't mean it! Will, come back!" Gilan whined like a petulant child. Will ignored him. Running after him, Gilan pleaded.

"Aw, c'mon Will. Take a joke!"

"That wasn't funny."

"I don't think you're short or nuts; honestly! C'mon Will!"

"No, no, that's fine. After all, since you're so sophisticated, you must be right."

"WiIIIiIIIiIIIIiIILLL! I sorry!"

Will faced him sneakily. "Alright, I forgive you." "You do?" "Yes." "Thank-" "But you have to tell me who it was that told you about the hat." Gilan recoiled.

"NO!"

"Why, ya scared?"

"Nuh uh!"

Will shrugged. "Fine, not forgiven."

"Alright, alright! It was Crowley."

Will guffawed. "Crowley? And you believed him? Wow, you're smart."

"Hey! He said it really convincingly."

"So naive." He was slapping his knee in hilarity.

"Am not!"

"So gullible." Now Will was rolling on the floor laughing.

"Stop it Will! I'll tell my mummy!"

"Ooh, so scared. Go run off to your mummy Gilly baby."

"I'll tell Alyss."

Will gasped. "You wouldn't"

"Would, and will."

"Don't tell her, please! Do you know what she'll do to me?"

"What? Shock me."

"She'll take away my coffee privileges." Despite himself, Gilan winched sympathetically.

"Well, serves you right for making fun of my hat."

"I'm sorry okay?"

"It wasn't funny." He hit Will with his own words.

"Alright, what do I have to do for you to not tell the wife?"

"Wear my hat."

"NO!"

Gilan shrugged. "I guess I'm off to see Alyss then."

"FINE! Give it here." Frowning, Will put it on.

"Foreign fashion sucks."

**A/N This is the result of typing whatever come into my head, when it comes. O.o**

* * *

28. Sorrow

A yawning void opened within him. His hope was crushed. Cruel fate, to make him think that Cassandra was alive after all, only to receive news that she'd been captured by Skandians. She was the single joy of his life ever since her mother had died, and his own father as well. Now, there was no joy, there was no hope, there was no light. Only blackness and despair; they reigned supreme in his kingly heart. Yet the greater pain was that his monarchy forbade that he abandon duty to rescue her, or even to send a rescue after her.

Tears ran down his face. Tears he'd dare not shed in front of the council. He had failed her- failed to protect her, failed to save her from suffering. And in failing her, he'd failed the memory of his beloved queen.

_Cassandra, what have I done? I'll never see you again. Cassie, what have I done?_

In the depths of despair, Duncan rebuked himself. A deep pain welled within his heart- the pain of a father who's lost his daughter. Slumping in his seat, face in hands, his strong body bowed and wracking with sobs, the proud king was the picture of desolation.

Silently, Halt entered the King's tent. He knew what the man was going through. Oh, he knew it all too well. Placing his hand on Duncan's shoulder in a rare gesture of support and comfort, Halt stood by him, whispering quietly.

"I know your sorrow- you have lost a daughter, I have lost a son."

* * *

29. Happiness

"Oh Gilan! Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!" Throwing her arms around Gilan, Jenny cried and laughed for joy.

"I can't believe it! Thank you Jenny! You won't regret it!" He twirled her around and around, grinning that famous grin.

"I thought you'd never ask Gilly! I'm so happy!" He set her down and held her close.

"I thought you wouldn't want me Jen, a rough Ranger." He whispered into her hair. She swatted at him playfully.

"Come off it Gilan, I thought a famous Ranger wouldn't take a simple cook." Gilan swooped her clean off her feet, and yelled joyously.

"You thought wrong!" Jenny squealed delightedly. Throwing caution to the wind, she flung her arms in the air as he spun her 'round and 'round.

"Hooray for thinking wrong! This is the best day EVER!" Chuckling, he set her down and they relaxed against a tree, and she settled contentedly in his arms. They had taken a walk in the woods, and Gilan had proposed when they got to a certain "romantic" spot. Alyss had told Gilan that Jenny had a thing for romantic woodlands.

From the above them in the very tree they were resting on, Will watched, barely able to contain his happiness to a jaw-splitting grin. He didn't _mean _to witness something so private, but he'd been hunting and climbed the tree to have a look around, when they'd entered the clearing, and before Will could get away unseen, Gilan suddenly proposed. Yes, Will was hard put not to wolf whistle or laugh for his friend. So, he grinned until it hurt.

Gilan lifted her head from his shoulder, tilting her chin up with his cupped hand.

"May I?" he whispered. When she nodded, eyes shining up at him, he kissed her softly. After a second or so, he pulled back. She sighed and snuggled closer to him. Gilan looked straight up at Will and winked. Startled, Will shrugged apologetically, as if to say: _Sorry, couldn't help it._

Gilan gave him a thumbs up behind Jenny's back.

_It's all good, I knew you were there anyway._

So Will left them to their happy moment.

* * *

30. Under the Rain

Feeling incredibly sad, Will didn't care when it started to pour. The rain ran off of his cloak for a while, but soon he was thoroughly soaked. He didn't care. He'd just completed a mission, but hadn't been able to save the little boy. Report of a large bear in the area had worried locals, so when a little boy was reported lost, Will hastened to track him down, hoping the bear hadn't found him first. There had been an awful lot of rain recently, and the tracks were fairly easy to see in the mud, especially for a Ranger.

_Will dismounted. He knew the bear was up ahead, and didn't want to alert it with Tug. Circling until he was downwind of the bear's expected location, Will moved forward. _

_That's when he heard a scream._

The heartbroken mother clutched her baby to her chest.

"He was only six years! Six years, and he's dead!" she wailed.

_Will broke into a sprint, bursting into a small clearing; hardly five meters away from a black bear._

"_Help me! Helphelphelp!" The little boy was up a tree, the bear quickly climbing after him._

"I'm sorry. I was too late," he said, hanging his head sorrowfully.

_In a wink, will sent four shafts into the bear's thick skin, aimed for the heart. Roaring, it toppled mightily and crashed to the forest floor. Immediately, the little boy jumped down._

"_NO! DON'T MOVE!" Will lunged forward to stop the boy…_

"Why? Why me? What did I do wrong? What did my little baby do wrong?"

Will didn't know what to say. How do you comfort a mother who's lost her child? How do you say "I'm sorry, I couldn't save your son"?

_Too late. Blood curdling screams rent the air as the bear blundered up, filled with rage, and swatted the boy into a tree eight meters away. He was dead instantly._

"_**NO!"**_

_Will shot another four arrows into the bear, this time penetrating deeply and killing it. He ran to the forlorn corpse. "This isn't happening, nononononono…"_

Long after the crowd left, and even the wretched mother had gathered her sad bundle and gone home, Will stood in the rain. "I failed him."

_The gashes were deep, and his limbs hung at odd angles. Wordlessly, Will gathered him up, got on Tug, and rode into Wensley._

He stood there for a long, long time. Tug butted his master worriedly, but Will didn't move. Will heard wet steps approaching, but he didn't look up. A muddied white hem appeared in his sight, but he didn't look up.

"Will?"

No reply. A soft hand reached out and tilted his chin up gently until Will was gazing into Alyss' eyes.

"Will, I'm sorry," she whispered. He shook his head.

"Not your fault. It's _my_ fault."

"Will, you cannot control such things; you did what you could. You won't always be successful," she chided mildly.

His frustration and pain shone through his eyes. "Alyss, we're talking about a _boy_ here! A little, helpless, boy. Barely six years old. I could've done something to save him, and now that mother, that family, suffers." He cast his eyes to the mud.

"Will, tell me, what exactly could you have done?" She tilted her head expectantly.

"I- well- I could've, done something," he struggled.

"Like what?"

"I could've found the bear sooner, or tracked the boy first."

"Tracking either would've brought you to the same place, and the bear's prints are easier to read. Are you saying you were deliberately going slowly?" she asked, knowing what his answer would be.

"N-no, not really."

"Right. So there wasn't really anything you could've done different," she said firmly.

"But that doesn't change reality. A boy died, so little." Despite himself, a small part of the pain lifted. Slowly, the guilt seeped away, but the grief remained. Satisfied that Will was now only sad about the death of the young one, Alyss hugged him comfortingly.

"I know Will. I feel sad too. Loosing young lives is always tragic." Thing is, Alyss knew the boy's mother, and thereby the little boy. She brought food to poor family's sometimes, paid for with her own money. The woman had become a close friend of hers, and Alyss was particularly liked the mischievous boy. He reminded her of Will.

"I grieve for Benjamin too." Hugging him tighter, she allowed a few tears to escape. Taken aback, Will looked up at her.

"You knew him?" she nodded. "Oh Alyss, I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I'm so selfish, having you comfort me when you must be hurting twice as badly."

"I had to Will. You would've felt twice as guilty if you had known." She leaned her head down on his shoulder comfortably.

Soon, however, Alyss sneezed. Instantly concerned, Will threw his cloak around her.

"How careless of me, I shouldn't have let you stand in the rain so long. You'll both get sick."

Drawing the cloak tightly around her stomach, Alyss nodded.

"Yes, let's get back to the cabin before the baby is sick." She rode curled up in front of him on Tug, who didn't mind the extra weight.

When they got back to the cabin, they both changed into warm clothes and Will built up a roaring fire. Will sipped his coffee while Alyss enjoyed her tea. They talked about the events of the day, cozily seated on the couch wrapped in a massive quilt, and eventually went to bed.

Will tried to sleep, but it eluded him like a fleeting summer shower. Instead, he was soaked in heavy grief. He tossed and turned, trying to escape the haunting vision; the vision of the boy getting smacked into a tree by that massively cruel paw, while Will stood frozen, helpless. But instead of seeing fair little Benjamin, he saw a brown haired boy with serious grey eyes; much what he imagined his own child would look like.

Turning to face Alyss, he placed his hands on her round tummy, feeling the comforting motion of the kicking baby.

_I won't let anything happen to our child._

But a voice in his head nagged him.

_You couldn't do anything to save Benjamin, how will you protect your child?_

Will gritted his teeth, trying to shut out the awful thought.

_No, nothing will ever happen to our child. NO, no… _"NO!"

He roared defiance in the face of fear. Alyss stated up with a little gasp.

"Will, what's wrong?" startled from sleep, her voice trembled. Will was instantly penitent.

"I'm sorry Alyss, it was nothing." He smoothed her ruffled hair back soothingly. He tried to take her in his arms, but she pushed back.

"Will, it wasn't nothing. You scared me out of my wits!" Wincing, Will mumbled.

"I'm so sorry I scared you Alyss."

The eyes; he was giving her the eyes. Puppy dog eyes. Sighing, she leaned on him.

"What was it Will? Was it a nightmare?" He shook his head.

"Worse." Alyss waited patiently for him to continue. "Alyss, will anything…bad…ever happen to our child? What if something terrible happens?" he said.

If Alyss was puzzled, she didn't show it. "I hope not, but things can, and will, happen. But whatever happens, both of us will look after and protect him."

"Him?"

"I- I just have a feeling about it. Mother's instinct. Why do you ask though? Is that all you're concerned about?"

Will paused for a moment. "Will I protect him just like I did Benjamin?" he said bitterly. Eyes clearing in understanding, Alyss grasped his hand sympathetically.

"Will, are you still blaming yourself for that?"

"I know that there wasn't anything I could've done differently, but that's just it! I couldn't do anything to save him. What if I can't do anything to save our son if need be? What if I fail him?"

"Will, you are one of the best Rangers in the kingdom, which means there's no one more likely to be able to protect him than you." She said.

"But I'm not invincible."

"You're right. But it doesn't matter how many scrapes he gets into, or what danger he faces, whether it be bears, a sprained wrist, or Uncle Halt's glare, but you will _never_ fail him. You will always do everything in your power to protect him, and that's the best he could ask for."

Will's eyes gave vent to the rain that threatened to drown him, and his doubts drained away, the clouds lifted, and his heart soared. Bowing his head on her shoulder, he cried, feeling peace at last.

"Thanks Alyss."

The went quietly to sleep, both of them feeling the better for having been under the rain.

**A/N I hope that last one made some sense related to the prompt! Enjoy your sappy chap, and REVIEW. O.O **


	7. Dark Night of the Soul

Dark Night of the Soul

31. Flowers

Sitting by the campfire at the Ranger gathering, Will seemed to be lost in thought. Gilan, who was sitting next to him, wondered what had gotten into the verbose boy.

"Hey Will? Will? Wiiiiiiill," said Gilan, waving his hand in the apprentice's face. With a start, Will turned to Gilan, squinting suspiciously at the calloused hand being waved in his face.

"What Gil? Why are you waving your hand in my face? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Gilan sighed. "Questions, questions. I was waving my hand in your face because you were staring into space, and it was starting to creep me out," he said.

Blinking, Will said; "Oh, I was? Right! There was something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I remember that on the first day of my apprenticeship, when I looked around the cabin, there was a vase of flowers in each room. I never really thought about it much until now," he mused.

"Ah, yes," said Gilan. "I noticed that too. Strange, don't you think, that Halt would keep flowers in the rooms? I guess even he has a sense of décor," he smirked.

But Will was shaking his head. "No, no, no, that's not what I wondered about; I figured _that_ one out long ago." Gilan's face was aghast, recoiling in bewilderment.

_How could he have figured it out? Figured _what_ out? What does he know that I don't?_

Will, however, continued; oblivious to Gilan's shock.

"What I wanted to know was," Will paused, allowing an evil grin to overcome his countenance. "when does he go skipping off to pick flowers?"

* * *

Glance to the left, glance to the right; walk on as if normally…sharp glance to the left again! No one there. Satisfied that he wasn't being watched, Halt slinked invisibly through the shadows at the edge of the meadow. Pulling out a flower basket from his cloak, Halt proceeded to pick flowers. Yellow, pink, purple; daisy clover, violet. Soon, his basket was nearly full of fragrant flowers. It was dangerous, to be sure- what if Will caught him doing this? It would be humiliating in the extreme. So, he hurried with his task. But, he couldn't help but smile to himself, secretly of course, when he remembered why he bothered to decorate with flowers.

The first time Pauline had ever visited him, years ago, she'd pointed out that the cabin must be dull for one person. When he asked what she meant, she dragged him off to this very clearing to pick flowers with him.

From that day on, Halt always made sure he had fresh flowers to place in the rooms.

Halt stared into a daisy, as if it held the answers to all his life's questions. Just then, he heard a strange sniffling. Turning sharply, what he saw made him flush to the roots of his hair…

Gilan and Will leaned on eachother, sniffing and wiping away tears with grubby hankies.

"So beautiful!" sniffled Will.

"So touching!" sobbed Gilan.

"He mourns his unrequited lover who has brutally rejected him!" cried Will dramatically.

"Oh! The agony of his afflicted heart!" gestured Gilan tragically.

Halt growled. "I'll afflict your heart Gilan! Mortally! You better be sorry for yourselves if I catch you, 'cuz I'm sure not!" he took off after the delinquents, yelling dire threats, while they whooped in exhilaration, the tears suddenly vanishing.

"Halt likes to pick flowers! Halt likes to pick flowers!" chanted Gilan. Will, however, was starting to get worried. That look on Halt's face wasn't pretty… but then again, when was it ever?

"Gilan," he panted. "I have a feeling those flowers will decorate our graves if he catches us."

Gilan risked a glance behind them. He turned back, terror in his eyes. "You're right," he gasped. Unconsciously, the three shouted in unison:

"Curse you flowers!"

**A/N Apparently, I'm terrible at writing "drabbles". It's too long!**

* * *

32. Night

It was one of those nights. The ones where he felt incredibly… alone. He tried to tell himself there was no reason to feel alone. That he was surrounded by friends. But sometimes, just sometimes, he couldn't help it.

_It's been many years since Skandia. I'm sick of feeling this way. It's ridiculous. How can I constantly remember all that happened? I thought these wounds had healed._

Will sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. It seemed like no matter how many times he closed that chapter of his life, on a night like this, it would open itself.

It wasn't as if he hadn't had support and guidance from his friends and Halt; he knew that there was nothing to be ashamed of at the feelings that could reduce him, in those months following his return, to a shaking mass of sweat and tears. He knew that the memories would come. But why, why after so long, did they continue to hold sway over him? How?

_It's all very well to accept that I'll never forget it, but I'm so weak to still be feeling this way!_

Halt told him again and again that it was nothing to be ashamed of. But that was then, all those years ago, when it was reasonable to suffer repercussions. But now, after so long, couldn't he just accept what had happened, and continue with his life? How could he be caught in this belittling whirlwind of fear?

This was the first time after half a year that Will had had a dark night like this. Without warning, he found himself in a fog. A fog of Warmweed. It wasn't so much the memories themselves that scared him, it was the Warmweed addiction. True, he'd been beset by nightmares before, but he couldn't reconcile himself to the Warmweed craving that would inexplicably sweep over him. Causing him to shake, and fear the effects of that powerful drug.

No, it wasn't the fear of Skandians, or the scourge, or Temujai, or frozen seas that gripped him. It was the fear of Warmweed sweeping over him that cast his soul into night.

**A/N Ik that didn't end on a good night, but another prompt in this chap will finish it. Gosh, some of these are long enough to be oneshots…-.- somebody teach me to write an actual DRABBLE size thingy. **

* * *

33. Expectations

Pauline brewed a pot of coffee. She was still in her morning robe, as today was a long awaited day off. Halt still had to work today though. As he sat down at the table, Halt accepted the mug of coffee with a grateful nod. He was already inhaling the scalding liquid when Pauline passed him a plate of eggs and breakfast cakes, and sat down with her own next to him. Pausing in his task to "good morning" Pauline, Halt was about to continue onto his second cup when she staid him with a hand on his arm.

"Halt, slow down. You know that all that caffeine isn't good for you at this age."

Grumpily, but recognizing her concern for him, Halt set down his mug. Yet he couldn't help but retort. "What do you mean 'this age'? Am I getting old?"

Pauline regarded him for a moment, before suddenly changing topic.  
"Halt, you consider Will as your son, right?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes. I've said so before."

Ignoring the questioning inflection in his voice, Pauline continued.  
"And you know I consider Alyss as a daughter."

Halt nodded acceptance.

"Well, they're our children then. Right?"

Still bemused, Halt nodded again.

"Well, that makes you a grandfather. And I think that safely labels you as 'aging' at least," she finished.

"Not all grandfathers are old. I can be a young- wait, grandfather?" His widened eyes rivaled the rim of his coffee mug.

Pauline tsked at him. "Never answer a question with a question, Halt," she teased. But he ignored her.

"You mean Alyss is expecting?" he said incredulously. Pauline rolled her eyes.

"With all these questions, maybe you're younger than I thought," she smirked, and Halt raised an eyebrow, composing himself and sitting back down . "Yes, Alyss is expecting," continued Pauline. "and with parents like Will and Alyss, I think _we_ can expect a lot."

Halt nodded sagely. "That you can."

**A/N Hey guys, guess what? I stink at writing endings. :P**

* * *

34. Stars

_And a heaven full of stars  
Over my head,  
White and topaz  
And misty red;  
~Sara Teasdale, Stars_

Gazing into the velvet night, I marveled at the beauty and number of the stars; as if someone had sprinkled tiny crystals all over my best dark velvet, and they clung to it, pulsing and throbbing with a life of their own.

A tiny wail broke my reverie; looking down into my arms, night eyes met star eyes- My dark eyes rivaled the blackness of the night, and Sean's eyes shone as brightly as any star. Crooning softly to him, I rocked back and forth, turning my eyes upward again. The cold air almost stole my breath, and I wrapped Sean tighter to lift him in front of me. He nearly started to cry at being deprived of my warmth, but the brilliant sky caught his attention.

"Sean, someday, you will be king of all this land. But I think it would be greater to be king of the stars," I told him softly. "Yet, whose fault is it that you are the only one to inherit this kingdom?"

Tears welled in my eyes. I had never been close to Ferris, my brother; his older twin, on the other hand, was the best brother a girl could wish for. He was never gruff and cold before Ferris began hating him, though he was a boy of few words. He was kind, and gentle, and unselfish. He was brave, and strong, and courageous.  
And he was gone.

Bringing my baby back into the warmth of my arms, I contemplated those glorious stars.

"Halt, do you see those same stars? Are you alive, wherever you are? I'll never forget you brother."

And in that thought, I found peace.

* * *

5. Hold My Hand

Growing desperate in his struggle against the powerful craving sweeping over him, Will bolted up and ran out of the cabin as if the Kalkara were after him. He didn't stop running; with no idea where he was going, he pumped his legs faster and faster, the chill air stinging him like a whip. It only made him run faster.

Diving into the forest, Will dodged and jumped and twisted out of the way of branches, over logs, and through undergrowth. But he couldn't escape from himself.

* * *

Will had been acting strange all evening. Alyss knew he sometimes got like this. He'd talked to her about it once, and he usually got over it by the next morning, or the evening after; but he'd been like this for five days. Alyss gave him space, knowing that he was the only one that could overcome this.

But this was too far. The whole cabin had been tense; Will struggling with himself, Alyss waiting for it to blow.

When Will bolted up and ran, Alyss knew it had.

Grabbing Will's discarded cloak on her way out, Alyss flung it around her shoulders and pursued. He was just disappearing out of sight, and she swept up her skirt, tucking it into her belt to free her legs, already running so she wouldn't waist time.

She didn't call, or try to get him to stop; she merely _ran_. Will was strong and fast, but if anything, Alyss was faster. Swiftly and silently in her soft shoes, Alyss was quickly closing the gap, when a sudden instinct screamed to be heard.

Veering sharply, she plunged into the trees at a sharp tangent. Sure enough, moments later, she heard Will crash into the trees. Starting to breath heavily, she pumped her legs faster. There! She spotted his back up ahead. But he wouldn't stop even if she did call out to him. There was only one thing to do…Attack a Ranger.

Without hesitation, she came up behind him, and as he leaped over a log, she bounded up on it and flung herself at his back, wrapping her arms tightly over his arms.

Yelling in alarm, Will tumbled off balance, and he rolled over and over, thumping over whatever was clinging to him. Ranger instincts took over and he burst his arms free, dug his boot toe into the earth, and sprung away, rolling to his feet. Spinning sharply, he drew his throwing knife fluidly, aiming at the spot where he broke free. But he didn't throw.

Panting, Alyss stared at him like a frightened doe. Will breathed heavily, straining to calm his heartbeat. With a shuddering breath, the knife slipped from his fingers, and he dropped to his knees.

"Will!" Alyss jumped up and knelt next to Will. "Will, snap out of it! Talk to me!"

Will looked up weakly. "I can't do this Alyss, it's too strong. I can't handle it!" Wild desperation crept into his voice. Alyss grabbed the back of his shoulders and wordlessly held him as tightly as possible; if he felt someone near him, the craze would dissipate and he wouldn't feel so alone as the madness rushed in. He moved slightly, and Alyss pulled him tighter.

"Will, I know you can pull through this! Hold on to me, you're not alone!" she said insistently. Alyss didn't know how badly affected he was, or if he even heard her, but she had to try.

"Alyss," breathed Will. He was still struggling against the urge to scream and thrash wildly. "Alyss, just go. I'm not worth it. You don't want a drug addict."

Shocked, Alyss rolled him over, forcing him to look at her. "Will, I most certainly won't. You need to pull though this! I know you can. Just look at me, hold my hand, and don't you stop!"

Will tried to look away, but she forced him to focus. That was the only way he could escape: by concentrating on something other than the panicked feeling. For a long time, they stayed there; Alyss holding him steady, and Will concentrating on her face, eventually sitting up. But he still didn't look away. Alyss stared at him, almost fiercely, softly talking to him. Just saying anything; nonsense, mundane things, chatter- letting him know she was there.

Suddenly, a familiar bark rang out, breaking their focus. Ebony bounded over to them alarmedly, sniffing Will's face and nosing Alyss with her cold nose. Releasing a long breath, Will patted Ebony, calming her jumping and bounding, smiling softly.

"Calm down girl, I'm alright now."

Alyss hugged him, this time in relief.

Will smoothed her hair apologetically. "Sorry Alyss. Are you hurt? That tackle was the craziest thing you've ever done. You could've been seriously hurt!"

"I know Will, I know. I knew exactly what I was doing."

Will frowned. "You didn't answer my question."

Hesitating, she said, "I'm fine. A few bruises never hurt anyone." Suddenly she looked sharply at him as he breathed in to talk, and she pointed her finger in his face. "And don't even _dare_ blame yourself! I _chose_ to do it," she said aggressively. Nodding in defeat, Will stood up, giving her a hand.

"Thank you Alyss. I don't know what I would do without you. I mean that."

As they walked back to the cabin in the starlit night, he held her hand tightly.

**A/N There you are! Hope you like it. :3 Wow, the last chap was all fluff, this one is all angst. XD Review! And don't forget to tell me what ur fave is. ;)**


	8. Life Worth Living

Life Worth Living

**A/N So sorry! Ik I haven't updated in awhile, but stuff kept coming up, and I couldn't think of things to write, and I had other stories that I wanted to work on, etc. etc. But I won't abandon this! :3 Thank you a million times to all my reviewer! You guys motivate me to write. Don't be afraid to bug me if I take too long; It'll give me incentive if people want to read more. X) Thanks again, and enjoy! (that's an order!)**

36. Precious Treasure

"You are the lucky one Halt; you inherit father's crown. How can you say you don't want it?" said Ferris bitterly.

The twins were in their adjoining quarters, in Halt's sitting room. The older twin was sharpening his claymore while Ferris paced the balcony impatiently.

"You have the kingdom handed to you on a silver platter, and you say you don't _want_ to be king?" he scoffed.

Halt glanced at his perturbed twin. They had been close until their teen years, when Ferris started to grow faker in his affections and acquired a sullen attitude. Lately, the tension between the boys was growing.

Ferris clenched his fist angrily. All he wanted, his life's ambition, was to be king. To him, no treasure compared to it. Yet Halt could act so noncommittal about it. Ferris was starting to think that the indifference might be faked. It was incomprehensible to him that anyone could make so lightly of his most precious treasure.

"Halt, how can you not want to be king?" he asked again. "What could you possibly value so much that you hold it higher than that?"

Slowly, Halt stopped his polishing and turned to Ferris.

"Believe me Ferris; if father would hear of it, I would pass the crown to you gladly. I don't want to be a ruler; I'm simply not cut out for it."

Dubious of Halt's statement, Ferris crossed his arms. "That doesn't answer my question."

Gazing into its blade as if it held the answer to Ferris's question, Halt turned back to his sword.

"Power is a dangerous thing. Have you seen how father worries and works day and night, fearing that his kingdom, his people, would be taken away? How other kings become corrupt in their thirst for greater and greater power? I don't want that. What I value above power and kingship is my freedom and integrity. That, to me, is the greatest treasure."

Ferris didn't believe a word of it. He resumed pacing angrily, when an idea struck him; if Halt suddenly couldn't inherit the kingdom, then it would fall to Ferris. But how?...

He glanced sidelong at Halt, who was once again polishing his sword.

_It just might work,_ thought Ferris nervously.

One twin valued life and integrity over the crown, the other valued the crown over integrity and life.

Even his brother's.

37. Eyes

They are a Ranger's primary weapon. Without them, he can't shoot, he can't track, he can't _live._

The Ranger's job is to collect information, keep a sharp lookout, and essentially, to spy. He lives and dies according to how effective he is with his eyes. If he fails to see before he is seen, if he misses a shot, if he wasn't observant enough to pick up a vital clue to solving a problem: all of these things can cost the Ranger his life.

Will completed the unseen-movement exercise, returning to Halt. As was to be expected, he'd been sighted several times. But he was definitely improving. Now it was his turn to try and sight Halt.

Glancing quickly over a large range of underbrush at a time, Will never allowed his gaze to remain in one place for long. That way, he had a better chance of detecting movement.

There! He thought he saw something, and concentrated on the tuft of grass fiercely, trying to spot the motion again.

_If you see something, don't stare at the spot. Scan the area carefully for another motion to determine which direction to look._

Halt's instructions echoed in his mind, and he instantly broke the stare and looked in an ever increasing circle around it, even though he knew by now Halt, if it had been him, wouldn't be in the same area.

Another motion caught his eye, but it was moving with the breeze, so he discarded it. Yet again he spotted motion, and it went against the breeze. He kept his gaze loose and soon spotted the next sign of movement. Now, as he followed the path set by the two sightings, he was able to pick up much smaller signals that wouldn't have caught his eye on their own. Pinpointing the next spot where Halt would be, Holding the wooden practice replica of his throwing knife, Will smoothly drew his arm back, and threw. It flew true to the spot Will had aimed at, and was whacked out of the way with a dull ring of metal on wood. Halt stood, saxe still in hand.

"Took you long enough," he said, but didn't make further comment. Will knew he had done well if Halt didn't criticize. He beamed from ear to ear.

"Thanks Halt! Aren't I getting pretty good?"

Halt eyed him skeptically. "You're getting to be just about average- for an apprentice."

Will deflated somewhat, reflecting:

_Who would've thought it would be so hard to use my eyes?_

**A/N K, so that wasn't exactly Halt, but whatever.**

38. Abandoned

Halt hated himself. He hated that he was doing this. He hated even more that there was no other choice. And above all he hated making her cry.

As he rode away in the middle of the night, he didn't look back even once at the castle where he had lived his entire life, or at the girl standing there. Left alone by him. By her brother. That's why he didn't look back- because he, Halt O'Carrik, hated himself for abandoning her.

"_I promise I'll come back someday. You'll see me again," he said, gruff as always._

"_You really, really promise Halt? You'll come back for me? I don't want to never see you again," she said, her large eyes shining with tears. Halt was her favorite brother; Ferris always shooed her away and teased her, but Halt tolerated taking her on rides and playing games with her._

"_Yeah, I promise." Halt knew it was a lie; knew he could never go back there as long as Ferris was still alive. But he couldn't bring himself to face the truth. As much for his sake as hers._

The bitter lie stung him, and he felt as if there were a bad taste in his mouth. But her didn't look back.

"Goodbye, Caityln."

39. Dreams

I laugh when I think about it. I was so naïve then! Back in the good ol' days of my apprenticeship, I would never have actually _admitted_ that I liked her. Little did I realize the secret dreams I built like castles in the sky. Nope, not even I knew the secret. Alyss tells me it was rather obvious that I liked her- _like _liked her -but I was so oblivious, I didn't even know that when she smiled at me and the blood rushed to my head, it wasn't the sun that made me dizzy; or that when I said "Is that a new dress?" I meant "You look gorgeous". But she knew it, and I dreamed on.

You know those type of dreams that when you wake up, you know it was something good, but can't for the life of you remember what it _was? _That's what it was like for me, now that I think about it. Whenever she left, I knew that there was something good that just happened, but never figured out _what_ until dream became reality in Macindaw, and then Alyss wrote me a letter that shattered the barrier between sleeping and waking and had me riding like a maniac for Redmont.

Yes, it makes me laugh, little naïve dreamer that I was.

**A/N XD idk, seems funny to me. Not sure if Will's IC or not…what do you think?**

40. Rated

It seems like no matter where you go, people will judge you. Rate you. I hated that feeling when I was in the ward; people said I could never be in battleschool because of my size. Then when I came back from the boar hunt, and everyone called me a hero because I had done something "interesting" and "brave". I wasn't even the one that killed the boar, or even the first to step up and face it. That was Halt and Horace. But, I was rated hero. Then I was called "trouble maker" and "liar" by Alda, Bryn, and Jerome because Horace "had to be saved" by me.

Now, I'm rated one of the best Rangers because of all the adventures I'd been on and everything I'd done. Every Ranger makes a promise to serve his King and Kingdom, so why should I be singled out for the way I fulfilled my promise?

There are few people who are and exception: people like Halt, Horace, Alyss, and Pauline. Evanlyn, Crowley, Gilan, and Jenny. Those people are my family, and among them, I'm never rated.

**A/N Will if awfully spotlight-stealing today, isn't he? **

**So there's you knew chappie! Hope you enjoyed it, and please review again!:3 Luv ya!**


	9. Ranger Radio and the Path of Life

Ranger Radio and the Path of Life

A/N I noticed that randomly sprinkled throughout this chap was "can I uh, ask you something?" a copy-paste frm 44 that somehow ended up everywhere. Sometimes the DocX thing does that...srry. Also, I changed the ending of 42.

41. Teamwork

A Ranger and coffee. Coffee and Ranger. We make a great team.

Ranger Gilan, resident Halt-annoyer, at your service. Today , we will be discussing the amazing bond between a Ranger and his coffee:

Without it, a Ranger isn't alert, and that's bad. Without a Ranger, coffee has no honorable purpose in life, and that's bad too. We Rangers have drunk coffee ever since the corps were founded over 150 years ago, and each mentor is careful to pass on this vital tradition to their apprentices, and he always regretted it the next morning when said apprentice drank EVERY. LAST. DROP. Believe me, I speak from experience: mentors get desperate when you drink their coffee.

Now, suppose, for whatever reason, that a Ranger is deprived of his beloved companion. That is a miserable day for the Ranger. Bleariness, glaring, cursing, and other drunk behaviors are common side-effects. Don't be drunk. Drink your coffee.

All Rangers know how important teamwork is, and the astonishing bond between Ranger and coffee is truly beautiful to behold. This is definitely a lesson to remember, for all you apprentices out there.

Thank you for tuning in to Ranger Radio, the official radio station of the Ranger Corps in Araluen. Tune in next time for an exclusive interview from Ranger Halt on why apprentices are the bane of the earth. Ranger Gilan, signing off.

42. Standing Still

_Will stood, transfixed by stage fright, just inside the massive doors to the Baron's audience hall.  
-The Ruins of Gorlan, ch.32 pg.237_

All of the ladies and lords, arrayed in their finest, stood between him and the Baron. Time itself stood still, waiting anxiously, with bated breath, for him, apprentice Will, to take the first step. The space between him and Baron Arald seemed to gape impassibly before him, representing the journey he had taken to arrive at this moment. Everything he had done to become the apprentice he was now, and the fight for not only Halt's life, but those of Baron Arald and Sir Rodney, merited him to be standing there, awaiting whatever would unfold.

He felt a shove propel him forward, and he stumbled to a stop in protest, looking behind him pleadingly.

"Get on with it," Halt said unsympathetically.

Turning forward again, Will was yet immobile, blankly facing the countless pairs of eyes that bored into him. His life ever since he became apprenticed to Halt seemed to dance across his mind's eye like so many gilded courtiers at a fancy ball. A flash of color caught his eye, snapping him back to the present as time resumed. Jenny, unperturbed by the officious atmosphere, fluttered a bright yellow kerchief at him; beside her, Alyss quietly kissed her fingertips to him, smiling encouragement.

The bright light flooding from the windows set high up on the massive walls crowded in on him, exposing him to view without the cloak that had become a very part of him in the past few months.

"Get a move on," growled Halt, shoving him again.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"Not invited. Now get going!"

Will wondered what would change after this. Would life really go on as normal after he made one last journey down that hall, would he still be Will the orphan, Will-nobody? No, that Will was long gone.

He took the first step.

43. Dying

"_I think my father would be glad I chose the way I did," Will said, slipping the bronze oak leaf on its chain over his head. Halt merely nodded once, then turned away and went inside the cottage, leaving his apprentice to his thoughts.  
-Ruins of Gorlan, pg.249_

As the dead leaves slowly dropped off their trees and fell to the ground, Will felt his long-standing dream die and fall with them. Somehow, although he realized that the truth was so much greater than his daydream, so amazing and life-changing, he felt a small part of him die with that dream.

He was truly glad with his decision, and would chose the same again if he had to, but the dream of battleschool had sustained him through long years of not knowing who he was or who he was supposed to be, willing him to honor his father's memory and become a great knight. Gladly, knowing the truth and knowing that he was paying his father the best homage possible by becoming apprenticed to the man he'd died to save, Will let go of his dying dream, finally feeling at peace.

44. Two Roads

Crowley had a secret. An essential secret, because it was one of the main reasons why he finally decided to become a Ranger instead of inheriting his father's fief.

Crowley had horrible stage freight.  
Whenever he was faced with standing up and speaking his mind, he froze up and couldn't speak a word. That's why when faced with two choices, to stay at the castle and inherit the Baronship, or to abdicate it to his younger brother and apprentice himself to Pritchard, he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle an office that required public scrutiny and appearance; he simply wasn't cut out for the job. Nonetheless, Crowley at age seventeen couldn't let go of the idea of being a Baron. All his life he'd grown up raised on the ideals of court, believing that being a Baron was the greatest achievement he could aspire to. To hold that office, be the object of admiration, and respect to all the people of the fief, and to hold in his trust their well-beings, to let go of that was hard.

One night, as he lay awake thinking about his two paths, Crowley sat up and dressed, making his way down the dark passages to his father's study. Light filtered under the door, so he knew his father was still up. He knocked tentatively, and entered when a strong voice commended imperiously.

"Enter."

Obeying, he closed the heavy door behind him, taking a moment to adjust to the brightly lit room. Seated behind the massive oaken desk, Baron Markus sat, poring over legal papers. Markus was a powerful looking man, broad of girth and fitter than most Barons of his forty-two years. The exact opposite of his father, Crowley was a slightly built youth, without much muscle to speak of. Soft spoken and timid, he was a constant puzzle to Markus, who couldn't imagine how he'd fathered such a son. But, he still stood by Crowley's decisions, knowing that he couldn't force his son into an occupation he wasn't capable of serving.

"Uh, dad? Can I, uh, talk to you?" said Crowley. "It's alright if you're too busy…" he added quickly.

"Sit down," said Markus, gesturing to a huge chair and stacking his papers preliminary to setting the aside to view his son scooting awkwardly into the chair, his legs sticking out beyond the edge. Crowley stared at the desk, unable to find the words he was looking for.

"Well, go ahead son," prompted Markus.

"Well, I can't…I don't know what to do about this decision. I…I want to be Baron, but I don't think I'm equipped for the role. I can't fill the office of Baron, I don't even look like a Baron. But, I don't know if I qualify as a Ranger either…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Master Pritchard already said he would accept you as an apprentice. Do you doubt his judgment?"

"N-no, not exactly…But I'm not very strong dad. I just want to do something, commit everything to it, and be able to do it well."

"Whether or not you can do that is up to you alone Crowley. This choice is yours to make, and no one else can make it for you."

"What do you mean by whether or not I can do it being up to me? How can I be sure I choose the right path?"

"Crowley," Markus leaned forward seriously and looked Crowley straight in the eye, forcing his uncertain son to face him squarely. "Whichever road you choose to take, it won't matter a straw if you doubt constantly. Only you can decide to commit, only you can determine what you are capable of, and that won't be worth anything if you make a choice based soley on what you _want._ You must choose what is _right."_

"How do I know what is right?" said Crowley, finding a sudden need to whisper.

"Listen carefully, because this is the most important thing for you to remember, no matter which you decide on: your office is to serve the people of this country. A Ranger and a Baron serve in very different ways, but your highest interest is the people. If you don't think you are capable of being Baron, how many people are going to be better served by you messing up?"

"N-not many."

"Exactly. Now think about that, and tell me your decision tomorrow. It's time for you to begin you training, you are well old enough for either job. Goodnight Crowley," finished Markus, shaking hands with his son.

"Thanks dad, I will, goodnight sir."

* * *

The following evening, Crowley returned to Markus's office, entered as before, and stood infront of the desk resolutely.

"Dad, I'm going to be a Ranger."

45. Illusion

_Dang! Where did that sneaky hound get to?_

Crowley roamed around suspiciously, looking under wooden boxes of toys, under the bed, behind the curtain, and behind the door.

"I know you're here somewhere Growley, don't think you can hide from me! I _know_ you're the one who stole my cake you gobbler!"

Despite his searching, the mysterious hound was no-where to be found. Remembering that he'd taken Growley hunting earlier that afternoon to hunt monsters and goblins and cows, Crowley snuck out the front door as his unsuspecting mother prepared dinner. Rushing into the woods, Crowley searched around for tracks.

"Ah ha! This is where we encountered the terrible crikey-dill, I know he's not far off. Growley! Cone on out!" he charged off after the tracks of a fat badger.

He searched high and low, shimmying up small trees to see whether or not her left the flop eared creature up in one, and turning over mossy logs. All to no avail. Just as he was giving up hope and wondering when his mummy would rescue him from the gathering shadows, Crowley spotted the corner of his brown cape poking out from behind a tree. He rushed around the tree to find the culprit-puppy staring smugly at him, one button eye covered by a fold of the cape. It was covered in leaves that had been stuck to it with honey.

"No wonder I couldn't find you, you were wearing the magic Ranger cape!"

_Woof! Crowley, you didn't do a very good job of making a Ranger cape. But you still couldn't find me. Grrroof! _He laughed doggily.

"No fair Growley! You took my cake! How can you be so mean."

_I didn't eat your cake, you left me out here to fight off the angry crikey-dills and purple cows!_

"That's right!" said Crowley, "I threw my cake at the crikey-dill, and forgot to take you with me when I escaped! Hurry, we better get home before they come back."

Crowley picked up the hound, cape and all, and ran home before the night set in and he was left in the dark, leaving behind him his game of illusions.

**A/N I know I wrote Crowley in two different settings, but the book never says how he grew up, so this is creative licence.;) Enjoy your chap, and plz read and review. As always, let me know which was your fave!:3  
**


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